


Agents of Love and Self-Destruction

by BellatrixDraven



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellatrixDraven/pseuds/BellatrixDraven
Summary: You're an undercover liaison for the FBI, not quite an agent but someone who spends more time in the field scoping places and suspects out than their spies. It's a job you enjoy, and after a few missions, you meet James Aubrey. You don't work with him often, but maybe there's something there. You can't help but like him, he's got dry humor and perpetually smells like coffee and french fries. It's just a shame that you're a bit more on the self-destructive side, and that's what gets you both in trouble.





	1. Chapter 1

"Booth, I got the file you were asking for." Aubrey leaned in the doorway.   
"It took you forever,"  
"I was interrupted by Caroline. She said there was a return from someone undercover, and that we might get involved in that case. I don't know. She took my coffee, I grabbed another one." Aubrey shrugged and came in, tossing the file to Booth rather unceremoniously.   
"Say anything about the undercover agent?" Booth looked up.   
"Not a thing, and I wasn't asking questions."  
"We should go see her. If Caroline is saying we might get involved, that means a body."  
"Why all the way from New York?"  
"That's not something I can answer. Let's go." Booth stood up, grabbed his jacket and moved to steer Aubrey out of the office. "Anything else about Caroline I should know?"  
"Yeah. She's not wearing her lipstick." They were both walking down the hall at a ridiculous speed and Aubrey was struggling not to spill his coffee everywhere. He didn't want to have two cups go to waste, it wasn't a good omen for the day or cases to come. It was going well so far.  
"What?"  
"Yeah." Aubrey shuddered. "I'm going to need a lot more coffee to deal with that-" he was cut off as a bright colored head ducked around the corner.   
"Booth!" There was a gleeful shout, the next thing Aubrey knew his coffee was half suspended in air, all over the floor and his suit, and there was someone very happily wrapped around Booth.  
"Um-"  
"Wait- y/n?" Booth asked. He held the coffee spilling fiend at arm length. "What the hell happened to you?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Booth!!" You tackled your friend in a hug. "Oh man, I've missed you so much."  
"Yeah, I can tell. What's been happening? What happened to your hair?" Booth gave you a once over, confusion clearly written on his face. You pulled away and looked down, having momentarily forgotten that you had just gotten back from your undercover assignment and were still dressed as such. The leather vest and ripped jeans were probably a little bit overboard for the FBI agents staring at you.  
"Oh, I was in a thing- New York- and I joined an underground punk scene. Found some really good music. Anyway, drug dealing, some prostitution, a couple of murders. Like the mafia, but not as high and obvious."  
"And you just slid in?" The other agent was staring at you, somewhere between angry and impressed.  
"Yeah." You looked at him like it was obvious.  
"Y/N has a theatre major and focused on acting for a career. Got contacted by us a while ago, when we can't send an agent, it's y/n who takes it up. No one ever sees it coming, and it works out great."  
"Yeah, I think it's served y'all pretty well." You grin at Booth again.   
"I'm sorry, where did you get your degree?"   
"Guilford in North Carolina, for my bachelor's and then UChicago. Both of them are pretty great."  
"Would've thought they were for English or History." The other agent is clearly not letting you get off that easily.  
"I majored in theatre, realized I had enough credits to get a history major too, and then I triple minored in sociology, German and creative writing. I actually started with the FBI as a translator, then during an off weekend, someone saw a performance, I got asked to do some undercover stuff, and here we are. I'm y/n, and you are?" Okay, your voice was a little harsh, but this guy seemed rude. You stuck your hand out to shake though, trying to keep some form of manners.  
"James Aubrey. You sound like you should be CIA."  
"To be honest, and between us, the FBI gives better benefits. CIA has a better check, but FBI has the benefits. NCIS has the pretty ones though," you winked at Aubrey. "Also, have you seen Cam? I sent her a message about a body."  
"She'll probably be in the lab." Booth said. He motioned for all of you to go forward to the break room.   
"What sort of body?" Aubrey asked.  
"I don't know, someone who seemed to be hit by the group I was with. No one knew him though and we can't trace his connection."  
"Sorry, what were you doing in the underground scene?" Aubrey interjected.   
"I was playing a party kid, just off college-"  
"You are young." Booth said.  
"I'm almost thirty. Anyway, I was just out of school, wanted some trips. I found the right dealer, worked my way in, and worked up to the inner ring for the good ol' kingpin. Then I switched from dealing acid to being a hooker- better access to Jimmy dearest. He tests all the prostitutes himself." You poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Aubrey. "Sorry about your other one. Where was I?"  
"Hookers."  
"Right. Jimmy started a relationship with me and after a while, I was able to get the cops in for the biggest scene of the year. It was rough. I got a few cracked ribs, I'm supposed to be off for the next couple of months to heal. I'm not, you know-" you pointed a stirring straw at Booth. "Not planning on taking it easy, I just spent eighteen months as a punk socialite who was a part-time hooker, it's invigorating."  
"You said something about a body?"  
"Not into the sex talk Aubrey? Shame, you're cute." You winked at him again. "Yeah, someone with a shit ton of meth and acid in his system, found in the river. Half rotten, but it's going to be a real pain in the ass finding an ID." You threw the stirring straw in the trash and hopped up on the counter, shuffling your feet. "Would it be with Cam yet?"  
"No idea." Aubrey said. He was on his third cup of coffee and was in the fridge looking for something. "Has anyone seen my bag of doughnuts?"  
"I had a raspberry filled, I didn't see a name on the sack." You answered, looking down as he suddenly glared at you. "I'll buy you a dozen."  
"I'm holding you to that."  
"Hold on, you said it would be hard to ID." Booth cut in. "You know we have the best people here to do the work and solve the case, right?"  
"No shit Booth. But it's not going to be easy."  
"We specialize in difficult."  
"The fingerprints were burned off, as were the toes, his head was cut in half almost completely and every tooth is missing, so you won't have dental records. You're going to have a party figuring this out. I'm going to see Cam, see you later." You jumped off the counter and started down the hallway before turning back. "Is Temperance still here?"  
"Um, yeah?" Aubrey answered.  
"Fuck."  
"You don't like her?"  
"Few people 'like' her. We're not on great terms." You huffed. "Actually I'll go get those doughnuts for you now if you want, if it means I can avoid Brennan."  
"Unlikely, if there's a body, she'll be there until I drag her away." Booth said. "Why do you hate her again?"  
"She said sociology wasn't a real science and told me acting was not a worthwhile pursuit in the investigations since it was science that solved cases. I filled her work gloves with fine glitter and she was pissed for a week," there was just a hint of malice in your voice. "When she apologizes, I will."  
"Not likely, she hasn't apologized to me and we're married." Booth muttered.   
"Great. I'm going to see Cam, I'm not making promises on what I'll say to your wife." You huffed again and started to the lab.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dr Saroyan!" You said as you ran into the lab.   
"Y/n!" Hodgins called. "Loving the hair, is it new?"  
"Undercover. You're the first to not have a heart attack."  
"No, it looks good on you. So does the leather stuff. What brings you here?"  
"I was going to ask if my body had been delivered?"  
"A body?" He asked. " I haven't seen one, but if you give me a sec, I'll go check with Cam." He went around and toward her office. You shrugged and pushed your hands into your pockets, and just waited at the bottom of the platform.  
"Bones, wait, maybe you should just take a breath-" you turned as you heard Booth trying to play interference.  
"I refuse to calm down when that insufferable cretin is in my lab. Y/n has no respect for hard science and hardly has the credentials to be here, much less looking like a cocaine addicted charlatan." She pushed past Booth and right to you, snapping her gloves on with more force than necessary.  
"Nice to see you Tempy." You said, bracing in case she decided to get physical.   
"What the hell are you doing in my lab?"  
"I sent a body."  
"A real shame it wasn't your own."  
"You'd love to see me stripped to the bone on your table, but it would literally have to be over my dead body. Get a grip Brennan, if you didn't have your head up your ass, none of this would've happened."   
"It's impossible to fit a cranium in the anal cavity."  
"And yet, you managed to fit yours and your entire ego up there." You snapped. There wasn't time to defend yourself as you were knocked back by one of the most powerful right hooks you'd ever felt.   
"Get out of the Jeffersonian."  
"Sure, when you get the answer to my crime."  
"You aren't even a criminal justice employee, much less the head of jurisdiction on a case." She unclenched her fist and removed the glove.   
"Times change Brennan. I just spent time undercover in the punk rock version of the mafia, and someone got killed. No ID possible, the body got sent to the best of best." It hurt more to say that than the punch to your jaw. "So I'm here until you get a name and killer for my John Doe."  
"Am I interrupting something?" Cam asked, eyes wide as she turned the corner to see the two of you. "What happened to you y/n?"  
"Right hook and a punk scene. Haven't had time to go back to civilian life." You replied. "Do you have my body?"  
"No bodies have been received, are you sure it was sent here?"  
"Two days before my flight, it should definitely be here by now."  
"We'll have to see if it got stuck in holding, that's happened before, maybe even limbo. Go get ice for your jaw and go clean up, I'll call you as soon as it comes in."  
"You're sure?"  
"Of course." Cam said. "It's good to have you back."  
"Thanks, I'm glad to be here." You grinned. You passed Brennan and kept on the path to the break room. You could hear footsteps behind you after a couple of minutes so you slowed and turned around.  
"Holy cow y/n, is that what I think it is?"  
"A nicely bruised jaw? Yeah Aubrey, Brennan socked me. I probably deserved it." You continued toward the break room, closer to ice, closer to some sort of relief. "Can I do anything for you?"  
"Booth said I should stay with you to make sure you don't cause trouble. He said "y/n has a knack for rubbing people the wrong way and will probably need a federal buffer" so here I am." He raised an eyebrow as you cracked the ice tray on the counter and held a handful to your jaw. "You should use a towel."  
"Paper towels aren't worth what a pig could spit." You replied. "I'm going to go home after this goes numb, I have a shower calling my name and probably a rather messy bowl of rotted fruit. But also perfectly preserved Ramen."  
"I'm going to go with you."  
"Even in the shower, Agent Aubrey?"  
"Well, not there, but outside the door. Can't let anything happen to the FBI's newest punk rocker." He grinned for a heartbeat before getting serious again. "You still owe me coffee and doughnuts though."  
"I'll get you whatever you want if you have any Advil."  
"Have at it." He tossed the bottle to you and took a bottle of water from the fridge. "I'll drive you home."  
"Thanks Agent. Lucky you, having to deal with the disgrace of the government."   
"I've dealt with worse, let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

"Home" was a rather messy apartment, and you could tell it was less than impressive to Aubrey. You could smell the spoiled food on the counter from when you had forgone chucking it before leaving, and the water was dripping in the sink. Luckily the plants you had seemed to be alive, at least enough that they could possibly be saved with some Miracle-Gro and some wishing.  
"I promise it's not usually this bad."  
"How did you even keep this place if you were gone for over a year?"  
"Well, technically the bureau covers this, since it's my 'office' and home base. I actually have a house outside DC, inherited from my grandfather or something, and it's all good as long as I pay the utilities every month. I'll probably swing over there because it's more comfortable, after I get what I need here."  
"I suggest you take a shower too." Aubrey said. "You've got dirt all over you."  
"Fair enough." You motioned for him to follow you to the back of the apartment. "Here's the bedroom, if you want to wait in here. The bathroom is like five feet down the hall, you'll be able to hear everything to know I haven't died traumatically in the shower." He raised an eyebrow. "Or there's a couch closer to the front, but it might be a bit, well, soiled. From dirt and chemicals and probably some decomposing paper."  
"I'll take the bedroom thanks."  
"Whatever you say Agent." You winked as you moved past him to the closet. "Gimme two seconds to grab some clothes, and we'll be out of here in no time."  
Out of the corner of your eye you saw him whip around to avoid seeing whatever there was in your closet, cheeks tinged pink. He was really trying to not seem... whatever he was avoiding. He certainly wasn't flirting like you were, but it didn't seem like normal embarrassment either. You shrugged to yourself, grabbed the nearest clothes that smelled clean, and moved past him to the bathroom.  
Hot showers were one of the greatest things man had come up with. You figured that was just a fact, not a ridiculous thing to say. You lathered up the shampoo, wondering how much dye would run down the drain, and your thoughts went back to the case. New York had been an experience, if it had to be summed up in one word. You ducked under the water to rinse, and stood under the water as you thought over the finer details.  
-  
You had been asked by the head of the bureau after your name had been thrown around a few times. You'd been pulled from work on translating and after a lot of interviewing and tests, you had been briefed.  
"New York, there's an underground scene. It's got a bit of everything, prostitution, drugs, murders. We need to get them before the group breaks to the surface. They're easily as dangerous as the mob." The voice reminded you of Skinner from X-Files.  
"And I'm the answer?"  
"You've got the degrees and the knack to prove yourself. You need to infiltrate, get in, make yourself known and you need to play the game as ruthlessly as they do. Cutthroat, dangerous, but still soft enough to no one will go after you." He shoved a file at you. "We're looking for Jamison Kanderall, he's the head. He organizes everything."  
"And why is this a federal case?" You narrowed your eyes.  
"He's already managed to kill an agent in crossfire, and he's started the beginning of a civil unrest. You're our solution."  
"And my chances of dying are?" Arms crossed, slouching, you made no move to look interested. Last time you had been undercover you had been almost too close to a chemical explosion in Nebraska, you weren't exactly keen to go straight to possible murder in New York.  
"Depends on how you well you can perform. You come recommended from Seeley Booth, so I'm trusting you. You leave tomorrow, 6am."  
"Thank you for the notice." You said curtly, and left.  
*  
The file mostly just had pictures of suspects, all of them looking more and more like Alice Cooper wannabes with brightly dyed hair. If 2005 emo "rawr" and Alice Cooper had a bastard child. You threw the file unceremoniously in the carry on bag and groaned. At least all of this was on the bureau's tab.  
New York meant looking like a no one, which was great since you barely knew which end was up. The smell of cigarettes and exhaust mingled with rotting fries and the smell of too much Downy softener. After a few days to get your bearings and getting into a few fights at clubs and bars, you had managed to set off a tiny blip on the radar.  
"So you're the new kid in town?" You were shoved against an alley wall, and someone with auburn hair and a knife was holding onto your shirt front.  
"The fuck does it matter to you?" You snarled back.  
"Is you or ain't you?"  
"Yeah, the Crown Pincelet of Manhattan, now back the fuck off." You shoved the person back and fixed your jacket.  
"Kanderall wants a word with you."  
"He'll have to make an appointment. I'm a grifter, I have shit to do."  
"It's not really a request."  
"Then tell him he better call quick." You flicked out a business card, faux name and number on it. "I'm dropping this town if the money don't come in soon."  
"What do you want?"  
"I want in on the Pols and the Pekes."  
"You gotta pass a test, then you'll be running mail."  
"I'll take it."  
*  
"Gotta lose the ordinary look darling, we need to stand out."  
"Wouldn't my ordinary look stand out in this scene?" You jerked your head back to the floor, filled with drug laced college kids and lights burning as hot as the sun.  
"Not in a good way." Jamison explained, leaning forward. "Now, I think you'll be good, just the right type of scrappy and ne'er-do-well. Acid runs, you get to sample whatever you want, just bring in my cut- 70%."  
"How often?"  
"Whenever I call." He grinned. "Unless you have a better deal."  
"Acid pop sounds good for a beginner."  
"Oh, and you need a name doll." He placed a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "No one goes by real names here. Think roller derby team names. Atomic Cupcake, Desolation Rose, that sorta thing." He sat back, waiting for you to think it over.  
"Nuclear Fission." You decided. "Hope colors aren't claimed,"  
"They're not."  
"Then I'll see you around Kingpin. Look for the kid in blue." You dodged the scene as soon as possible.  
*  
"You've got quite the hauls there Fission," you glared over the dark glasses at the girl who had fished you out of the streets. Rocket Shot or whatever her name was.  
"I do my job."  
"And yet you still haven't officially joined us."  
"I've been here five months, tats aren't for those who are below a year." You snapped back.  
"We gotta up your look somehow. Kanderall wants to promote you."  
"To what, cocaine and acid trips?"  
"The side attractions, you deal and you get to service people."  
"And why would I accept that," you threw the last wad of cash on the table, and shoved your hands in your pockets.  
"You get to keep all the cash from servicing. And a larger cut of the drugs. All you gotta do is change your look, say yes, and meet the boss."  
"What?" You asked acidly. The job was going well, but the longer you worked, the more you felt like tension was going to snap.  
"He tests us all himself. The best ones get the best pays, and have to worry about fewer people. Pro tip- the senators pay better." She smirked. "Let's go hotshot, we're upping your dose and hitting the redlight."  
*  
Eleven months. Your hair had been cut short, dyed a sort of iridescent green. You had lost a lot of weight, blending in with the addicts. Leather and ripped denim and cheap metal flashed at you in the mirror. But you had finally scored, you were in the inner ring after you had been dropped in the ring. Your knuckles were still bruised.  
"What's up Fission,"  
"Take a flying leap Rocket." You popped a handful of pills, and turned to stare at her. She had moved from the heavy metal in the face to tattoos over her knuckles and a fuckload of eyeliner.  
"Sup sunshine, you get to prove yourself Friday."  
"What?"  
"You know, everyone gets a test run. But to really be in, you gotta show you're tougher than a bag o' nails. Sucker punches, keep the guy down, you know."  
"Wait, I'm next slot for the cage match?"  
"You got it." She took an acid tab from her jacket and placed it on the center of her tongue. "You get a real cage match. Death type."  
"Fuck no."  
"It's all fair you know that, the names are randomly selected."  
"I don't kill Rocket." You hissed. Her eyes were huge, pupils dilating as the acid kicked in. She smiled woozily, and patted your shoulder.  
"You're gonna have to fucking suck it up sunshine. Else you ain't making it to Fifth Avenue." She waved her fingers and walked away, hair gleaming under neon lights.  
That Friday had been brutal. First cut up from a guy with a butterfly knife who was behind on his payments, then a bar fight on 76th. Then to the underground, where the cage match had brought in all sorts of people. It was the money maker, once every six months. Thousands of dollars were dumped for the chance to see a set of addicts and lackeys fight to the death with whatever they were given five minutes before the fight. Drugs, alcohol and hookers circulated, and the lights danced in time to the basslines. Your name, Nuclear Fission, had been put up in loopy neon letters on one side of the cage. You didn't know your opponent, so you stopped to see what name was trying to flicker to life.  
Rocket's name came up in flaming orange, and your stomach dropped faster than a lead elevator.  
You still weren't sure how you had made it. Your mind had gone on autodrive and you just ducked the punches, pulled her long hair, and after an eternity, the shouting stopped. You were covered in cuts where she had hidden razors and then used them, and your knuckles were so dark it seemed impossible. She was moving slightly in the corner of your eye, and with the nod from Jamison, you brought your boot down over her back. It wasn't enough to kill her, but you proved yourself enough to get out of the hell hole. It was a while before a decision was made- Rocket was a liability, and you were on the edge of being a loose cannon. You were both dropped off, sore and bloody and eyeing one another cautiously under the blue streetlights.  
"I ain't going back." She muttered, fighting for a cigarette. "They'll fucking kill me."  
"So what do you plan to do?"  
"I gotta get the hell out of town and fast, if you don't come back with a trophy to prove you're in, they'll hunt me down themselves, and I'll be floating at Coney Island, like the Montauk Monster on steroids."  
There was silence as she smoked and you were struggling with staying in character or saving her life. She was by no means innocent, she had floated to cloud nine, gotten people killed and had almost killed you. But she deserved a chance to get away. You cleared your throat and looked over.  
"I got a friend in DC, he'll keep an eye on you and you'll be safe."  
"What sizz name," she glared at your through a swollen eye.  
"Booth, he's a recovering gambler. He'll make sure you're safe. Tell him I sent you."  
"What, Nuclear Fission?"  
"No..." you hesitated. "Tell him Barker sends his regards, and he'll know it's me."  
"Fucking weird man, but I'll do it. Booth, DC, gambler. Got it." She stubbed the cigarette out and flicked it into the breeze. She yanked her necklace off, and handed it to you. In the eleven months you had been there, and in all the files before, she had never been seen without the necklace. Regular black cord, two college rings, a skeleton key, and a battered locket, and a grenade pin all hung from it. "This is the only proof you'll need to show that I'm gone. Take care of that, it's your trophy now, but I expect to see you in DC sometime to give it back."  
"Sure thing Rocket."  
"Amy." She said. You blinked in surprise. "My name is Amy, I just went by Rocket because it was cool to a thirteen year old. Keep the necklace safe or I'll rip your spine out and beat you with it."  
"Got it Amy."  
"See you around fucker," she grinned for a moment and then seemed to melt into the darkness.  
*  
The bust was the most terrifying event of your life. Bullets flying and smoke and tear gas. Thousands of dollars of drugs raining over your head, and then suddenly wrapped up in Jamison's arms as he struggled to get away.  
"Nothing 'gainst you sweetheart," he huffed. "But a hostage is needed and you were the closest I got."  
"Jimmy, please," you were choking.  
"Come on Fission, let's make a run for it."  
Five minutes later you were sprawled on the sidewalk, Jimmy shot in the head and brains splattered everywhere. You had to stifle the urge to vomit as you shoved away from him. The NYPD came over, ready to arrest you too, before your face was recognized.  
"No harm with this one guys, that's our rat."  
-  
There was a loud bang on the door, snatching you from your thoughts. The water was cold over your shoulders and you dropped whatever it was you were holding.  
"Hey, you alright in there?" Aubrey asked. You sighed, shutting off the water.  
"Yeah, until you scared the daylights out of me." You called back. You wrapped a towel around yourself and opened the door. "What can I do for you Agent Aubrey?"  
"You've been in there for almost an hour, I was making sure you were okay." He glanced over your dripping hair and body before clearing his throat. "I'll let you get dressed."  
"Much obliged." You smirked and shut the door with a soft click. Drying off was a bit difficult with the humidity in the room, sticking and feeling a bit uncomfortable but it was your own fault for getting lost in thought. You shoved your clothes on, trying to think of the last time you ate, and went back to your bedroom.  
Aubrey was sitting on the bed, shoes off and crosslegged. He had a magazine in front of him, flipping through glossy pictures of green walls and strawberry shortcake and women in sun hats. You smiled to yourself, and for a moment, you felt a rush of warmth toward him.  
"Surprise Aubrey," you said. He jerked upward and stared as his vision caught up with him.  
"You look- good," he cleared his throat awkwardly. You looked down at the outfit, just normal jeans and a collared shirt, a sweater pulled over it.  
"Nothing special, I look like a kid on a college visit."  
"It's different from the punk rocker look. Speaking of, the nose ring going to stay?" He asked. You had forgotten it, and touched it self consciously.  
"Just for now. I'm starved and my house is way better than this dump, let's split. I'll buy whatever you want."  
"Sounds good, Booth sent a message, he can meet us for lunch at the Founding Fathers."  
"Sorry what?"  
"You've never been there?" He asked, suddenly excited. "Prepare for the best burger of your life, it's amazing food, and the coffee is great. Basically anything is good, but that's just me. I'm actually starved though, let's go, and I'll tell you all about it on the way there."  
"Alright Aubrey." You laughed. You grabbed the nearest pair of shoes and your wallet and headed out the door with Aubrey.


	5. Chapter 5

"So what can you tell us about the underground business?" Booth asked.  
"It's busy. Everything is fast-paced, you don't really get a moment to adjust." You said, trailing a fry through a pool of ketchup. "I was running drugs almost as soon as I was brought in. Then it was moved up, prostitution, which could be combined with drug running. And then fights. It was a rough time."   
"What else?"  
"Well, you had to pick a new name. And not anything normal, it was weird. But it was a good cut for all the drugs. I got to keep thirty percent, which was enough to keep myself looking like part of the crew without being obvious. And I got busted a few times, just to really make it obvious I was working with them." You wrinkled your nose. "Narcotics in New York is a gross group. Anyway, it's a life where it's all neon lights and knife fights and dizzy highs."  
"Did you do any of the drugs you were dealing?" Aubrey asked.  
"Course I did, it was basically required." You frowned. "Especially when I made it to prostitution level, you had to at least have some when you slept with Jimmy." You pushed another fry around. "It wasn't great, I chose to do the softer stuff instead of cocaine."  
"Well, we won't arrest you on that." Booth said.  
"Good, it's been a few months, you won't even find it in my nails or hair samples." You said, a little stonily. "Anyway, the worst was murders, but I was only disposal on that."  
"You were there for eighteen months and you made it to disposal?" Aubrey asked, almost choking on his drink.  
"Look, I'm an actor." You said. "It's what I do. All you have to do is say the right things, give more of your profits than asked, and when you get an inevitable bloody nose from a night in lockup, and it's dripping everywhere, clean it up before anyone notices. Before long they realize you know what you're doing and it's easy, you're practically adopted."  
"And how did the disposals go?"  
"Junkie overdoses were staged for a majority of them. It was a punk rock scene, not the mafia." You scowled and snatched the remains of Booth's burger, taking a bite. "What wasn't overdoses, it was car wrecks or a simple body dump in a dumpster."  
"So you have no idea why someone had their head sawed in half, fingerprints burned off, teeth extracted, and so on?"  
"If I did, my body wouldn't be at the Jeffersonian, under your wife." You finished the burger and wiped your fingers on a napkin messily. "Anything else you want to ask me, since you clearly think I'm incompetent."  
"No." Aubrey said, giving Booth a look. "But something was found in our labwork."  
"And that was?"   
"Particles in the fractured cheekbone." Aubrey said. "Nothing yet, it's not an instant magic, but it could be related to cause of death."  
"Good to know." You smiled, genuinely as Aubrey. "Thank you for letting me know."  
"Of course." He said, a little awkwardly and you both glanced at Booth.   
"I need to get back to the office." Booth said. "Talk to Caroline. Aubrey, stay with y/n, until we have some sort of confirmation from the lab."  
"You don't think my life's in danger now?"  
"It could be. But especially if this has COD, you'll need to be used to a shadow." Booth said. "Aubrey, take 'em home."


	6. Chapter 6

"So," Aubrey said awkwardly, giving you a quick look as you walked to the car. "What is it you do for fun?"  
"I don't know." You shrugged. "Haven't been doing fun stuff for the past eighteen months and everything's foggy. Probably random art and marathoning tv shows, because who doesn't do that?"  
"Favorite food?"  
"Pizza." You laughed. "And ice cream. God, I miss ice cream." You grinned at him. "What's your favorite flavor?"  
"All of them." Aubrey said, as if it were obvious. "Yours?"  
"Same. Except stuff with toffee, usually it feels burnt." You slid into the passenger seat. "Where to, oh lovely FBI agent?"  
"How about somewhere to get the dye out of your hair?" He offered. "If you get rid of your undercover look, you'll be a bit safer if anyone is after you. I mean, you look like a hipster college student, but just in case."  
"Hair bleach is probably a good idea. And I'll take out the extraneous piercings." You bit your lip. "Sorry again for the surprise and spilling all your coffee. I'll buy you some, as a replacement."  
"You survived eighteen months in an undercover scheme, it's cool. Besides, we'll have to take turns while I'm keeping you company."

"I'll keep it in mind. I'll buy bleach and some better clothes. Don't want to look too ridiculous."  
"I'm sure Hodgins will be most disappointed." Aubrey looked over and you both cracked up.  
"I'm glad you're the guy watching over me." You said. "Booth is nice, but I'd probably get into more fights with Brennan. And even though we had a rough start, you're really nice."  
"You don't know. I could be just as crazy as anyone else."  
"I'll take my chances." You laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh so shoutout to Victoria to motivating me to continue on this. This was my favorite fic but the feedback was slim but they got me inspired so thanks Vic. This is dedicated to you.

You didn't realize how tired you were until after you had showered and bleached your hair. You had mumbled a goodnight to Aubrey and fell asleep on the couch. You didn't know what Aubrey was doing, but his body was warm close to yours.  
"Aubrey." He picked up the phone, rousing you. "Wait, Booth, slow down. What's going on?"  
The reply was garbled, and mixed with static. You sat up, blinking at Aubrey who was going a bit pale.  
"Is everything okay?" You asked, voice a little raspy.  
"Booth, are you sure?"  
"Yes. We've got something and we need you to keep y/n with you at all times." Booth's voice crackled. "Nothing serious mind you, just a precaution."  
You didn't like the sound of that and snatched at the phone, but Aubrey jerked away. You scowled and tried again, succeeding in knocking it to the floor. You and Aubrey both scrabbled for it, but you won by pinning one of his legs under you.  
"Booth what the hell is going on?"  
"Y/n?"  
"One and only, come on, tell me what's going on." You sat up and got off Aubrey who looked mortally offended that you had bested him. You stuck your tongue out him childishly.  
"Did you just hit Aubrey?" Booth sounded scandalized.  
"No, I knocked the phone out of his hand like a cat throws a glass, now tell me what's happening before I roll up to the Jeffersonian."  
"That body you found?" Booth sounded hesitant and queasy.  
"Yes?" You snapped impatiently.  
"It was that girl Rocket."  
The phone slipped out of your hand and Aubrey took advantage of that to scoop you up. "Hey Booth?" He said, phone pressed against his ear. "We got it, keep me posted."  
"Rocket was supposed to get out alive." You whispered hoarsely. There were no tears and if Aubrey hadn't witnessed the clattering phone, he might not have noticed you were even bothered.  
"She did."  
"If they found her, they'll know there was a rat, that I was the rat- Jimmy might not be dead." You had begun to hyperventilate.  
"Hey, it's alright okay? Stuff gets incorrectly named all the time, there's no way that Dr B will sit with that result if she thinks anything is wrong and she'll do everything she can to work with Booth and me to keep you safe."  



End file.
